here. She’s safe.
And Tripp and Rosen would be answering for this.
But that was for another day. Right now, he had to prove himself right and perhaps gain another favor from Miss Greene. The possibility made him dizzy.
This favor would not be so innocent as allowing him to escort her to a fundraiser.
Perhaps she read his intent on his face because she asked, “What would the wager entail?”
“If I’m right, you owe me a favor. And I offer the same in reverse should I be proven wrong.”
“So if I’m right then you owe me a favor.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t think of anything I want from you,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose.
“You can’t?” he murmured. “What a pity.”
There were many, many things he’d like from Justine, not all of them suitable for polite conversation. Most of them centered on the topic of her pussy and his tongue.
Then she grinned. A sly, secretive grin that caused Jack’s knees to damn near weaken and goose bumps to break out on his skin. Jesus God, that look. As if a wicked thought had crossed her mind. No, more like a dirty, illicit thought. And he very well might die if he didn’t discover it.
Though he doubted hers had been as dirty as his own.
“I have something,” she said, eyes shining. “A favor I need with Tammany Hall.”
Disappointment punched through his stomach. Indeed, what had he expected? She wasn’t corrupt and wicked, like him. Never would be.
He started for the World’s main entrance and waved her along behind him. “Well, certainly don’t spoil the surprise by telling me. Come along.”
He flung open the heavy door. The stench of sweat, blood and whiskey filled his nostrils, the scent as familiar as breathing. The interior was bright enough for him to quickly take stock of the room, the number and positions of everyone inside. The place was as safe as he could reasonably expect, so he headed toward the long wooden bar. Several patrons were standing at the bar, their backs to him.
He leaned against the edge, right next to a redhead he’d know anywhere. “Bess! How have you been, love?”
Bess turned, her face registering surprise then genuine pleasure. “Damn, Mulligan. It’s been a long time.”
“It has. You are looking well, though. Paul, good to see you,” he said to the barkeep. “I like the new look.” He pointed to the man’s expertly groomed muttonchops.
Paul cast a wary glance at Justine before coming back to Jack. “Hello, Mulligan. We don’t see you often in these parts. Did you come down for a drink or to place a bet?”
“No, I have my own places for that. I’m actually here with my friend.” He hooked a thumb to where Justine stood. “I understand you took her for thirty-five dollars. I’ll be wanting that back.”
Paul and Bess exchanged a look. “Now, Mulligan. We don’t want any trouble,” Paul said.
“Which is why you’ll return my friend’s money and give her an apology.”
“Aw, damn,” Bess said. “You can’t blame a girl for trying. Do you see the way she’s dressed? She can afford it.”
“That’s hardly the point and you know it.” Jack rapped his knuckles on the bar. “Thirty-five. Right now.”
Bess reached inside her bodice while Paul dug into his apron. Within seconds Jack held thirty-five dollars. “Now, the apology.”
Both mumbled apologies to Justine, who’d drawn closer during the exchange. “No harm done,” she said without a hint of ill will and took the money. “You’re forgiven.”
“Good. That’s settled. You know a man named von Briesen?”
“Of German descent,” Justine put in. “Last seen here on June 19th.”
Bess and Paul both denied knowing the man. “Check with Mac. He does the books in the back. He might remember.”
Jack led Justine to the poolroom, which was packed with bodies. Men of every color and background were clustered around small wooden tables where they stared at the race results on the wall. A screen in the corner hid a telegraph machine that steadily transmitted results from the track. Everyone along the line made a fortune off the city’s poolrooms, even Western Union.
Payouts were handled much like a bank, with a counter surrounded by bars. There were guards, as well. If anyone thought to rob the place, they’d never make it ten feet before they were gutted.
Jack walked up to the counter and leaned an elbow on the wood. “Good day. You must be Mac.”
“I am, sir.”
“My name is Mulligan. I need some information.”
The banker’s eyes went huge. “Mulligan, as in . . .”
There were a